Blind Faith
by aptasi
Summary: It was a minuscule injury with the potential to disrupt the entire dynamic.
1. Rob Them

Summary: It was a minuscule injury with the potential to disrupt the entire dynamic.

Disclaimer: I'm just a fanfiction writer. All hail the rightful owners.

Content Disclaimer: This story is not written from or for a child's perspective. Though both dark and light moments are present, if you don't wish to see cannon characters distressed, this is probably not for you.

* * *

"Ok…." Zack managed, huffing and puffing. "So Carmen's trying to become the ultimate jewel thief. She's stolen seven of the most illustrious raw gems in the world, and now she's going to make her own gold settings for them. By hand…"

"Looks like it little bro…" Ivy said, not breathing hard in the slightest as she rushed up the stairs. "And she needs this gold etchant to do it." This had severely not been her case. Behind on every turn, the detective had been feeling unusually foiled by the elusive woman in red.

"Still can't figure out how you decided she was going to this particular chemical plant." Zack muttered, wondering from his sister's body language if her temper might be a little shorter than usual tonight.

"Because my friend works here…" Ivy growled. "And it would be just like Carmen to want to annoy me."

"Oh…" Zack drew a deep breath, and rushed faster up the service stairs. "Good logic." And it was, sort of, except that it also wasn't. He would have liked something a little more concrete to justify the ten-story sprint up a flight of stairs.

However, in this instance, Ivy's somewhat vindictive logic turned out to be correct, as they burst through the door and witnessed Carmen standing with her hands on her hips, pleasantly waiting for them.

"Right on time, detectives." Carmen taunted with a jaunty smile, though in reality they were somewhat late. "Now watch, as I create the most fantastic pieces of jewelry ever worn. All for me, of course."

"Not today, Carmen." Ivy retorted, running across the floor and managing for once not to obsess about why Carmen would deem their witness so important.

"Be careful, Ives." Zack warned. "Gold's an inert metal. Anything that can etch it has got to be seriously strong."

"Thanks for the warning little bro," Ivy said, distracted and not really listening, as she maneuvered to get closer to Carmen.

"Yeah… safety first. Watch out for the loot gumshoe." Chief piped up helpfully, but Ivy didn't pay any attention to that missive either.

The detective and thief danced around each other, as Carmen somehow kept the various chemical setups between her and her pursuer.

Carmen was laughing, head tossing, gaze sparkling, the adrenaline overriding most of her ever-missing calm instincts. This was the fun part, the personal aspect of the chase, where you could hear your opponent breath and see the whites of their eyes.

A particularly special treat was to be gained by all the obstacles on the floor. By maneuvering around these, Carmen could keep a practical distance, where the physical distance was inordinately short. It made a pleasant change from a conventional chase, that mandated turning one's back. Ivy could practically reach out and touch her over the open glassware, but no one was going to try and jump over a basin of unknown chemical to do it.

The gestures and mannerism more resembled a game of tag than a multimillion-dollar organized crime. Except, of course, that Carmen was playing around and Ivy was not.

Enjoying the teasing, the deceptive banter of false starts and locked eyes, too much to actually attempt an escape, Carmen flirted with fate and her own timing, trice disregarding easy exits and doubling back into the center of the maze of lab benches.

Lightheartedness has its own risks.

Ivy growled, getting frustrated.

"Can't catch me detective!" Carmen taunted.

"Can too!" Ivy shouted.

Gleefully, Carmen laughed, and that snigger set something off in Ivy.

Feeling a rush of irrational anger, Ivy searched around for a distraction, found the nearest object, and threw it forcefully in the thief's direction.

It wasn't all that wrong, she would tell herself later. After all, the detective had not really been trying to hit the master thief. Just to hit near her would be enough. How many times had Carmen distracted them with smoke bombs, pigeons, or whatever else she had on her belt pouch? Turnabout was fair play.

However, this wasn't a pigeon. It was a glass beaker, and not a particularly well-covered one.

With an audible gasp, Carmen threw her hand up, trying to protect herself from the splashing liquid. Her gesture was to no avail. The tiniest spray of the corrosive chemical splashed between her gloved fingers across her face, into her slightly open eyes.

Both the detectives craned their necks forward, unable to see what had happened.

Carmen took off running, trying not to shriek from the painful sensation burning through her stare. Somehow she managed to keep her eyes open and maintain a bit of black and white sight long enough to vault through the window to get into the helicopter. But even as she hit the last step, the deterioration completed, and her vision faded to black like an old school Hollywood movie.

"What was that?" Zack asked nervously.

"I don't know little bro…" Ivy responded. "But I think she's OK." The detective didn't care to admit any other possibility, even to herself.

Zack nodded. It was possible, he reasoned that the disruption had simply spooked Carmen, jolted her out of her self-affected enjoyment. "Alright then… Back to headquarters?"


	2. Struck

BLIND FAITH

Summary: A miniscule injury with the potential to disrupt the entire dynamic.

Disclaimer: I'm just a fanfiction writer. All hail the rightful owners.

Content Disclaimer: This story is not written from or for a child's perspective. Though both dark and light moments are present, if you don't wish to see cannon characters distressed, this is probably not for you.

* * *

In the plane, Carmen pulled her hat down to cover her face. Every aspect of her panicked being wanted to scrub at her burning eyes. However, she knew that as long as her henchmen were watching that action was akin to suicide. If they figured out that her eyes were damaged, she'd be dead.

Carmen could hear, like an eeiry drone, Suhara's remembered voice over the din of the engines. _There are three things you have to protect in a fight, Carmen Chan. There might be a thousand things you want to protect, but three are not optional. No matter what else happens you must retain your ability to see, breathe, and feel. Because you can't fight unconscious, you can't stay awake without air, and you can't win blind. _

She couldn't see. Not a thing. And her eyes were wide open.

They had to know… how could they not? Wasn't it obvious? Even if her eyes weren't visibly disfigured, her demeanor had to be screaming.

But Carmen didn't hear what she expected to hear, were that true. No whispers, no heavy respiration save her own. Someone at least ought to be nervous.

All she could detect was her own heart pounding, her own breath racing, a rhythmical cadence of fear.

The master thief tried to tell herself to be brave, to face whatever was coming with some sort of dignity.

Carmen was terrified.

At least she had the presence of mind to turn her face away from the driver, to appear to be looking out of the window. And to force her trembling hands to her side.

It was so frightening, such a totally helpless feeling. Even now, they were burning.

The master thief, though desperately trying to steady herself, could barely think.

Somehow, she had to get to a hospital. Or a doctor… something. And, if she wanted to live through this, she had to get there without alerting her employees. This was a cutthroat business, and no one wants a weak leader. Carmen was convinced they would eliminate her in a second if they guessed.

But she wanted to live.

It was that last thought that finally calmed her down. Even if this horrible darkness was permanent, Carmen knew she wasn't giving up.

So she had to work out the logistics and fast. It was a simplifying notion. Logistics were, after all, what Carmen did best. She would treat getting home as a particularly well crafted challenge and not concern herself with the penalty for loosing. Naturally, that penalty resembled the usual. If the odds were less in her favor, wouldn't that just lead to a sweeter rush?

The master thief turned her face just enough that the pilot would realize she was talking to him. "Fly out to the edge of the city", she said "and drop me off at the safe house."

"Yes boss…" The pilot answered. Carmen analyzed in a hurry. She recognized the voice of the man flying the plane. With two men having accompanied her on the heist, that made the other henchman…

"And David I expect an escort to the building." Their boss continued confidently. "Because you need to carry the box of control supplies back to headquarters, remember?"

"Oh right…" The henchman muttered sheepishly. "I almost forgot."

Ok, not too shabby thus far. At least she knew where he was now. David did have these weird old school tendencies. Now she just had to pray he'd take her arm to walk her to the house. He probably would… unless she intimidated him and ended up trying to walk alone and falling flat on her face. Usually she found the gesture dated but charming. Now, she was depending on it for dear life.

So, Carmen concentrated on trying to make herself look open, even a little flirtatious. That was hard to do because she had no clue how her face looked. Eye contact was key in this and the thief didn't even know if she could focus the lenses properly. Besides, what if her eyes were red or even bleeding? It wouldn't do for her to turn her face all that way towards him.

So instead, the master thief focused on what she could control, relaxing her shoulders and moderating her gestures.

Having something to do turned out to be a complete godsend. It kept Carmen from panicking, and when they landed, the henchman not only helped her out of the plane but walked her by the arm as well.

* * *

"Catherine Sanchez?" The nurse called.

Carmen stood up when she heard the use of her alias. "Here" It had been incredibly difficult to get from the safehouse to the clinic, and she had only managed it by literally hugging boundaries, first the fence leading from the remote house into the city and then the storefronts.

She was lucky that she remembered the location of the clinic from the last time she had been in Dublin. That time, she had thrown out her knee. International felons didn't exactly have medical insurance, so it was her practice to visit places like these. The organizations tended to receive very large untraceable donations shortly thereafter.

Crossing the streets had been the worst. While trying to follow the sound of the footsteps, Carmen had recited _The Tyger _by William Blake over and over in her head, trying to keep herself calm. The rhythmical beat of that poem usually tended to soothe her, and she sometimes whispered it to herself when she was trying to fall asleep. However, by the second or third repetition, the thing had taken a slightly hysterical timbre.

"Oh!" She heard someone say in surprise, "Be careful!"

Carmen found out why when she ran into the door frame.

"Oh honey…" The kind voice said as she felt a hand take her arm. "I forgot. Here, let me get you a wheelchair."

Angry, Carmen twisted out of her grasp. "I can walk! Just tell me where to go."

* * *

"Careful." Nurse Henderson told the doctor. "You've got a live one there."

"Which one is this?"

"Spilled some sort of chemical in her eyes" The cynical woman explained. "And won't tell me how. Cleaned her up, but someone better explain a few things to her."

"She's got to be frightened…" The empathetic MD explained.

The nurse rolled her eyes. "Well she wasn't acting it."

* * *

Carmen sat quietly, twisting her hands in her lap.

Then, the darkness spoke. "Miss Sanchez?"

"Yes…"

"What seems to be the problem?"

"I spilled something in my eyes…" she whispered, her voice shaking. "And I can't… can't see."

"Ok…" The doctor said gently. "I'm going to put my hands on your face so I can keep your eye open and I can have a look. Is that alright."

Carmen nodded, feeling a bit soothed by the soft Irish accent.

She heard him pick up something, a light she supposed and then he held one of her eyes open.

"Ah yes.." He droned. "You've done a job on these. Was it an acid then?"

"Alkali…" The master thief contradicted. "I think…"

"You're going to feel some paper on your eye… it's a litmus test to check."

"Alright…"

A few moments later, he spoke. "Very perceptive. It is alkali."

"T-thank you." Carmen responded.

She heard a sigh and the light going back on the table. "These are out of my depth. I can get you an appointment with a surgeon, but you'll have to pay for it."

"I can pay…" the thief's voice was shivering.

The doctor came back a moment later. "Consultation 5:00 Friday." He informed her. "Beaumont Hospital. Attending is a mate of mine. He'll take good care of you. In the mean time we'll make sure we've washed all the chemicals off."

"Is this fixable?" Carmen asked.

"I don't know. I'll give you a prescription for antibiotics and some painkillers. Try not to rub 'em."

"Can you at least tell me if my eyes look…?" Carmen trailed off.

The MD informed her. "I'd wear something over them if you don't want funny looks. But it'll be murder trying to see out of 'em anyhow."

"So if you just look at me…" Carmen inferred… you can tell…?"

"Well sure, but you'd be thick to try and pass 'em off as normal."

"That's my choice." Carmen muttered.

"That it is." Carmen heard the doctor say.

She swallowed.

"Do you have a ride home?" He pried.

"Yes." She lied.


	3. Leading the

Summary: A miniscule injury with the potential to disrupt the entire dynamic.

Disclaimer: I'm just a fanfiction writer. All hail the rightful owners.

Content Disclaimer: This story is not written from or for a child's perspective. Though both dark and light moments are present, if you don't wish to see cannon characters distressed, this is probably not for you.

* * *

Restlessness is all the more ruinous alone in the dark.

Carmen tossed and flipped on the cold mattress. She had a powerful urge to turn on a light, and that made it all the worse because she knew the light _was_ on. Pitiful really, the thief thought, that she didn't have the heart to turn it off, that she kept hoping she'd see it.

One hand rested on the nightstand and beat a fierce beat that would have been a decibel short of audible, if her ears hadn't been hypersensitive.

The master thief took a deep breath. "It's fine. I delegated and no one suspects." It had turned out to be quite beneficial that she habitually entrusted her employees with different aspects of the legwork. It left them no cause for suspicion.

"No cause…" She chided herself. "Just rest and…"

Just rest and try not to hurt herself. Carmen felt like a naughty child dismissed into a corner. She could take her customary leave of absence between heists. That would cover the time remaining until her consultation. After that… well, she'd know wouldn't she?

"Only one rub in this particular scheme," The master thief muttered sardonically. "And it's that you can't keep still."

Carmen spared a few moments of her plentiful free time to reflect thoroughly on how disgraceful it was that she was talking aloud to herself like some sort of neurotic ignoramus. Surely, she rebuked herself, there were more suitable uses for her time.

However, are of those uses inherently required her eyes. Interaction with her henchman had to be minimized, to reduce the troublesome odds of one of them uncovering her dilemma. Any action at all could be the one thing that suddenly makes all the clues fit together.

The safest thing was for Carmen to lie still. It was only two days until the consultation. She'd kept to herself longer than this before. Her henchmen would probably just assume that she was sulking about some offhand remark Ivy made or a not particularly relevant moral dilemma. The master thief knew she was notorious for her so-called dark moods.

The reason for that was its own particular skein of problems, and Carmen wasn't in the mood to consider it tonight.

Well then she'd call it a blessing then. No one would miss her for two days.

"But you've only been here half an hour."

This wasn't working. Much like a toddler, Carmen realized that knowing she couldn't do something only made her want it more. She was going to loose her mind if she didn't get up and distract herself.

There was only one thing likely to work for that.

The thief shook her head. For some reason, she had a powerful urge to get on her computer and message the Player.

"The Player only talks to you before and after a caper. This is neither."

Wasn't it?

"Oh seriously… you are not thinking of going on a heist _now_."

* * *

"This just in, detectives" Chief announced. "Carmen just stole a copy of "Le Tigres" from a French archive."

"You're sure it's Carmen?" Ivy usually didn't ask, but she couldn't quite help it this time.

"Museum guard didn't see her face." The CGI head announced. "But did see her silhouette. Outfit's pretty distinctive gumshoe."

Ivy sighed with poorly concealed relief. If Carmen was stealing that meant she didn't have to worry about… well things she'd rather not consider. "Help me out here Zack, I don't speak French."

"Player, infoscan dude!" Zack instructed.

"Ok, so "Le Tigres" was a resistance paper distributed during the Nazi occupation of France. It was created by a group called Volunteers of Liberty."

Ivy didn't see any relevant connections. "Anything else we should know chief?"

"Uh… the group was founded by Jacques Lusseyran… the writers later worked on a more formal paper called Defense de la France… which later became France Soir… how far do you want me to go with this gumshoes?"

"Ok…" Ivy muttered irritable but cheerful overall. "That was a useless infoscan. Player, C5 us there, double time!"

As they entered the corridor, Chief began humming the Marseillaise. "Grab yourself a croissant gumshoes, because we're off to the land of escargot, crepes, and Andouillette. Let's go France!"

* * *

"Did she leave anything?" Ivy asked the librarian impatiently.

"No…" the woman muttered. "She was a bit … aloof."

"Then she must have said something." Zack inferred with delight.

"_Good luck have thou! And may the powers on high guard thy path better than they guarded mine._ And she said it like she was delivering lines. That means real grand and very obnoxious. "

Ivy sighed. "Player, cross reference, would ya?"

"That's one of the lines from Oedipus Rex." Chief announced. "And for you less cultured folks out there that mean Oedipus the King."

The redhead rolled her eyes. "Oh great, Carmen's on a pop psychology kick again."

Zack raised his eyebrows. "The Oedipus complex? OK we are so not going there. I know Carmen's got a dad issue or two but I doubt that's it."

Chief giggled.

"Oh real mature." Ivy derided.

"Haha still…" Zack said. "I don't think she's aiming at Freud here."

"OK, then." Ivy said. "Infoscan any performances of Oedipus Rex that are taking place today."

"errr…." Chief looked confused. "No Oedipus Rex… but there is a Antigone."

"Anti-who?"

"Antigone Zack-Man" The CGI head corrected. "It's a play about Oedipus' daughter. Equally tragic though."

"Care to give a synopsis Chief?"

"Creon, her uncle and the king, tells this girl Antigone that she can't give her traitor brother a funeral. She does anyhow. Everybody dies. Well not Creon, and I'm not sure about Antigone's sister Ismene. Still, it's basically everyone. "

"That's Greek tragedy for you." Zack laughed.

"Yeah real depressing… But it's still the wrong play."

"Wait a minute." Ivy said. "I read those plays in school. That line Carmen quoted was delivered by Oedpius _to _Antigone and Ismene."

"OK then…" Chief said. "That's got potential then."

Ivy demanded. "Where's the performance?"

"New York City!" The cheerful hologram provided. "It's an off Broadway production."

"Player, C5 us to the scene!"

"You got it gumshoes" the chief said. "You're on your way to Manhattan, the Big Apple, home of Broadway and Time's Square. New York City, here we come."


	4. Double

BLIND FAITH

Summary: A minuscule injury with the potential to disrupt the entire dynamic.

Disclaimer: I'm just a fanfiction writer. All hail the rightful owners.

Content Disclaimer: This story is not written from or for a child's perspective. Though both dark and light moments are present, if you don't wish to see cannon characters distressed, this is probably not for you.

* * *

It was actually rather clever, Carmen informed herself. No one would be expecting her to have adequate eyesight when constrained in a costume that essentially blindfolded her. All of the mistakes she made would be considered… normal.

Of course, this did require that she have the whole play memorized by default.

Good thing she did. Carmen had memorized the whole trilogy some time ago. Well maybe not the whole trilogy… she was a bit shaky on parts of _Oedipus at Colonus_, but then who ever bothered with that play anyhow?

Carmen made her voice deep. "Remember it's difficult to see out of this costume." She said. "I'll be actually following your lead."

A child's voice answered. "No problem."

A young hand took her arm.

She'd have to be insane to try to pull this off.

But that was true in general wasn't it.

"OK, so which character do you think she is?"

"Isn't it obvious." Ivy muttered derisively.

"Not to me…" Zack muttered.

There wasn't a hint of doubt in Ivy's voice. "She's the title role."

"How are you so sure?"

Ivy ticked off the point on her fingers. "Stubborn to the point of death, doesn't get the concept of limits, defiant to established power, major family drama, personal moral rules that fly in the face of codified law…. Sound like anyone we know Zack?"

Chief smiled. "Maybe." He giggled, winking. "What you didn't think she was Creon?"

Zack laughed back. "Carmen as the obsessive legalist… yeah that fits."

"Besides… Carmen Sandiego, title role, just seems to work."

"Only one problem Ives."

"What's that, little bro?"

"Does that look like Carmen to you?"

"She can die her hair red, Zack. It's not that difficult."

"But her face looks diff-"

"How much time do you spend looking at Carmen's face?"

"Uh… not much…. You know… the hat and… all…"

"Zack!"

"Right, sorry wasn't paying attention. Still doesn't look like her."

* * *

"Well a lot of help you were." The poorly tempered director announced. "Someone just stole a several-hundred year old necklace that we were using as a prop."

"It's Carmen." Ivy announced irritably. "How'd she get in?"

"She doubled as an actor."

"Told you she was Antigone." The redhead muttered.

"But she wasn't." The director announced in exasperation.

Ivy's eyes widened. "Who was she?"

"Tiresias."

"Who?

"The seer…"

Ivy hesitated.

"Blind seer…" The director grated. "Tragic irony… were you even watching the play?"

"Oh…'" Ivy muttered to herself "That's weird. I was sure she'd be Antigone. She say anything?"

"_Tuphlas in autois elpidas katoikisa."_ A nerve-ridden stagehand piped up. "Only thing she said that wasn't a Sophocles quote."

"Ok Zack, this is your department."

'It's all Greek to me sis." The blond quipped.

"But you're our language guru here and…"

"No sis I mean it's literally Greek. Plus it's old fashioned Greek. I think Carmen was quoting something. Chief, care to tell us what she was getting at?"

"Translatascan, translatascan," The CGI head elucidated. "_Tuphlas in autois elpidas katoikisa_ is a quote from the play Prometheus bound."

"Sounds like another Greek play." Ivy speculated. "Is she on some sort of ancient writers kick?"

"Naw." Zack noticed. "That wouldn't explain the French resistance paper. What's the play about?"

"OK so in Greek mythology this guy named Prometheus stole fire from the gods." Chief reeled off. "And Zeus punished him by… ewwwwww!"

"It sounds like it was real pretty chief." Ivy remarked.

"By chaining him to a rock to have his liver pecked out by birds… and the organ regenerated so… this went on pretty much" Chief winced "Indefinitely."

"Any instances of that play being done today." Ivy said briskly, as her brother made a face.

" 'Fraid not."

"OK… close relatives of the play?"

"Nope."

"Come on sis." Zack said. "Carmen doesn't reuse clues like that."

The detective snorted in annoyance.

Continuing, the blond wondered. "Anyone else think it's weird that she's given verbal clues this whole case?"

Ivy shrugged. "OK then, artwork?"

"Yeah, there's a whole ton of stuff on that theme… which do ya want?" Chief asked.

Stamping her foot, the detective growled in frustration.

"Err…" The stagehand stammered. "The thief also scratched something in the dirt with her foot."

"And you didn't tell us ten minutes ago?" Ivy shrieked.

"Whoa, easy, sis!" What'd she write?"

The lackey pointed. "One-one-zero-zero-one-zero-one-zero-one-one-one."

"Ok that's a big number."

" But all in zeros and ones…" Zack noticed. "Binary code for… 1623."

"A date?"

"Maybe. Player, cross-reference that date with artwork related to Prometheus bound."

"I've got a oil painting by Dirck van Baburen, on display in Amsterdam."

"Works for me" Zack said. "Player, do your stuff!"

The C5 corridor opened.

"We're on our way to Amsterdam in the Netherlands, city of canals, major shipping companies, and legalized… well we don't talk about that. Just get to work gumshoes!"


	5. Flying

Summary: A minuscule injury with the potential to disrupt the entire dynamic.

Disclaimer: I'm just a fanfiction writer. All hail the rightful owners.

Content Disclaimer: This story is not written from or for a child's perspective. Though both dark and light moments are present, if you don't wish to see cannon characters distressed, this is probably not for you.

* * *

The museum had Zack rather unsettled. It was usually dark. Furthermore, he was trying not to think about what he'd just read, what he'd just discovered. If he thought too long, Zack would end up speaking aloud and telling his sister. That was what he always did when trying to work out a problem.

However, the issue with that system in this instance was obvious.

So Zack didn't reveal what he'd noticed… what he knew about Carmen's choice of heist material. Instead, he watched as Carmen removed the painting from its protection and handed it off to her henchman.

Had her movements seemed to have a bit more… feeling… in them than usual? Furthermore, if Zack was as wrong as he so completely hoped, why had the henchman opened the security case instead of Carmen?

Then denial became untenable.

It was a tiny movement, the most imperceptible balance check when her heel hit the edge of the step, but it was enough for him.

Zack was sure now.

"Six steps." He said aloud, before he knew what he was doing.

Then Carmen got down them like an expert.

What else did one expect? This was Carmen Sandiego after all.

The blond ignored the very strange looks he was getting from his sister and observed Carmen as she began to run.

Carmen knew this museum… she had stolen from it countless times. So how on earth had she forgotten about those stairs?

No matter, there was nothing to do for it now but run. The mastermind knew where the helicopter was waiting, with a ladder lowered down through a skylight. Her escape depended on reaching it.

The henchmen have the artwork she knew or assumed. It's a simple matter to make an getaway. Carmen had done this a thousand times. She could do this with her eyes closed.

That used to be hyperbole, but the reality would have to suit. Just run, with nice even strides. Carmen had considered switching out of her heels, but it could affect the length of her steps and leave her even less likely to know where she was.

"Carmen duck!" She heard Zack's voice again. The thief obeyed without questioning, level changing without slowing down. She instinctively dropped into a martial arts slide and felt the plastic tape slip against her forehead. Had she stood any higher, Carmen calculated, the ribbon would have clotheslined her.

That was caution tape. Then where was the cause for its warning?

"You're clear, you're clear!" The benevolent voice shouted. "Run straight."

Heart racing, the blind felon obeyed.

Carmen felt the ladder and clutched it with both hands, as the helicopter started to rise.

Wordlessly, Carmen tossed the next clue in the general direction of the detectives. Had her sight been better, she would have realized that she'd missed completely with it.

However, as it was, the thing ricocheted off several buildings and out of grasp, before either Zack or Ivy had time to process it.

Unaware, Carmen focused on the height and the ladder.

This was a fine art, even when the eyes were cooperating. One can't just hang on to the rope. It inevitably ends with one looking like a ham on a hook. It's no small trick to seem elegant when getting hauled up into the air on a not particularly steady helicopter.

In fact, she rarely climbed the rope apparatus while actually in view of the detectives. It was far too undignified. Carmen preferred to just find a good pose and hold it. Most of the time that took a matter of seconds, but today she felt disorientated and couldn't quite feel the movement. So she ran herself through a mental checklist instead, with a stern internal dialog.

Well, it needed to be the same no matter what she had for eyes. Hook one foot through the ladder and back around, heel on the lower rung. Place the other foot one rung up, push the toe into the rope. Cheat out so you're facing the detectives… ok well where she thought the detectives were.

Carmen took a deep breath. The thief hadn't realized before how much she relied on her eyes to do this. After all, she hadn't thought she'd been staring at the ladder or anything, usually she looked off into the distance. However, her equilibrium felt incredibly disturbed. With the way the helicopter was lurching she could barely tell which way was up.

Moving on… get the arms asymmetrical, bend at the elbow so it doesn't look like there's any weight on them. Head goes back and chin goes up.

Next came the difficult part. With heart racing, Carmen asked herself if this was really necessary. However, with sprinting clarity she realized that it was indeed. Cutting corners inevitably led to failure. The master thief couldn't afford to set the precedent… especially if this excuse was… well that didn't bear thinking about.

Take one hand off the rope. Normally that felt easy and powerful but today everything seemed insecure and Carmen had an unreasonable urge to cling. However, it had to be done. The felon concentrated her mental power and pried her gloved hands from the rough rope.

Then, feeling the potential pose suddenly, Carmen abruptly turned her body, tightened her abs, and relaxed her legs, so that she suspected it did not appear that her weight was on anything at all.

Her free hand was gracefully out into the air and her toes pointed. It was perfect.

Until she slipped.

Suddenly, inexplicably, her left hand no longer had any contact with the treacherous whipping rope. The immediate sense of falling, fast and terrifying, whipped her in something close to a 180-degree turn, pointing her stilettos at the invisible sky.

As her undignified shriek cut off with a choked jerk, Carmen could hear the detectives scream, from what sounded like fatally far away.

Her only connection to anything but the breezy blackness was the cruel bit of the frayed rope behind her knee.

Smothered under cruel pulsing panic, Carmen tightened her knee about her only anchor and groped frantically for the ladder. Her desperate reaching hands caught nothing but the wind, repeatedly.

The thief shuddered convulsively and nearly lost what little remained of her balance as the helicopter lurched fitfully. She tried again for the ladder and missed, realizing with sinking dread that she must not be aiming for the right place.

"Carmen higher!" She heard the voice above the roar of the helicopter. It was Zack's. "The rung's farther up!"

She would have to overbalance to reach any farther, but Carmen trusted him.

Putting all her strength into one fraught movement, Carmen thrashed her body upward. As she moved her arms erratically, she felt the cord hit one and grabbed.

Carmen made no attempt at grand gestures this time. Instead, she hugged the ladder to her with all her strength.

Back on the ground, Zack and Ivy watched her fly away.

Ivy slowly, turned to Zack. "Let's get back to headquarters, little bro. Because you and I need to talk."


	6. Sided

Summary: A minuscule injury with the potential to disrupt the entire dynamic.

Disclaimer: I'm just a fanfiction writer. All hail the rightful owners.

Content Disclaimer: This story is not written from or for a child's perspective. Though both dark and light moments are present, if you don't wish to see cannon characters distressed, this is probably not for you.

* * *

"Ok…" Ivy snapped as their feet hit the ground. "You going to tell me what you were playing at back there?"

"Uh… what do ya mean sis?"

Ivy put her hands on her hips and launched into an imitation. "Carmen, watch out for that wire. " She said in a high pitched mockery of a voice " Carmen, the loot is two feet down and to your left. Carmen, watch out for the low hanging beam…"

Zack colored.

"Ring any bells?" Ivy prompted.

"I err… " Zack muttered. "I didn't want her to trip…"

"Over the bright orange caution tape?" Ivy asked sarcastically.

"Err…"

"Am I missing something," Ivy continued sarcastically. "Was she running the caper with her eyes closed?"

"Umm… "

"Zack, my man," Chief wheedled. "Are you holding out on us?"

"I…" Zack muttered.

"Yeah?" Ivy prompted.

"I don't think she can see." He blurted out.

"Wait what?" Chief exclaimed.

"Who?" Ivy half shouted.

Zack nervously responded. "Carmen."

Slowly, the redhead nodded. "The splash at the chemical plant…"

"I think so…"

Ivy bit her lip. "What makes you say that? Wouldn't that be her heist theme?"

"It is."

"Ok…" The redhead admitted softly. "I see where the blind part came in with the _Antigone_ play what with the whole Tiresias character and all."

"And her Oedipus Rex reference was one of the last lines of the play. They'd be delivered shortly after Oedipus blinded himself."

Ivy made a low growling sound "OK, so Sophocles has a blind motif. Anyone reading his plays would get that. He wasn't exactly subtle about it! But what about the other two heist sites? I haven't seen any pattern at all except that she's on a morbid streak."

"And let's face it Zack," Chief added nervously. "She does go on those a lot."

"The Prometheus Bound quote she gave translates to 'I established in them blind hopes.'" Zack muttered.

Ivy shook her head, trying not to believe it. "And the holocaust stuff?"

"Jacques Lusseyran was blind. " Zack said quietly. "I looked it up yesterday in between cases when I caught her theme."

Ivy paced erratically. "No… no that can't be it. That's a coincidence."

Zack didn't say anything.

The redhead sighed. "But, you're right it sure does look like that correlation's intentional."

"I'm sure she knows you didn't mean to…" Zack began.

The detective was fidgeting as if she could get her mind around the scenario. "We have to deal with this." She snapped. "Carmen's going to get herself killed."

"Yeah…" Zack muttered. "She's being a little reckless."

"A little!"

"Uh... one good thing gumshoes…" Chief piped up nervously.

"Alright chief," Ivy made a sad gesture with her arms. "Let us have it."

The CGI head formed into something that resembled vulnerability. "She told you."

Ivy and Zack exchanged glances. "I don't follow." The elder remarked. "Carmen didn't tell us a thing."

"But she gave us the clues Ives." Zack answered.

"Except for the last one…" Ivy snapped. "I don't even think she knows she missed with that one. And now…" the detective started pacing. "We don't know where she's going and we can't…" her breath was coming faster.

"Earth to Ivy!" Chief announced. "You don't need a clue. You've got the theme."

Ivy just glared.

"What's the number one most famous example of blindness in our culture sis?" Zack prompted. "The one that Carmen would put as the last stop. That's what you're getting at Chief right?"

"Yessir!"

Ivy's head slowly tilted. "Blindness… blindness…" she looked up. "Helen Keller?"

* * *

Carmen sat passively, a totally different picture from her last appointment. The sounds kept replaying in her head. She heard Zack tell her to let go of the rope and shivered again.

It wasn't that she didn't trust him. Carmen had trusted with all her soul… else she never would have ducked on cue, never would have overbalanced herself and risked falling.

Given the choice, she believed they would help her.

It wasn't fair to expect that of them.

The master thief knew that. She hadn't wanted to admit it.

The detectives couldn't keep handicapping the game for her. Eventually, they would have to explain the strange run of assistance. Carmen knew she never would have gained their compassion, were they not kindhearted in the first place. It takes a rare breed of person to see an adversary as so human.

Continuing the game would stomp that out of them and Carmen couldn't be responsible for that desolation. Particularly Ivy would not hold up well under the cognitive dissonance of the illegality.

To continue would be wrong. Carmen didn't often think in such black and white terms, but for this she would make an exception. However, if she stopped that left her... nothing.

It was a miracle that stunt hadn't snapped her neck. It hurt, even so, and Carmen found herself massaging her shoulders to try and assuage the soreness a bit.

That probably should have killed her.

Should have… indeed.

At least that was… neat.

"Catherine Sanchez?"


	7. Swear

BLIND FAITH

Summary: A minuscule injury with the potential to disrupt the entire dynamic.

Disclaimer: I'm just a fanfiction writer. All hail the rightful owners.

Content Disclaimer: This story is not written from or for a child's perspective. Though both dark and light moments are present, if you don't wish to see cannon characters distressed, this is probably not for you.

* * *

"It'll be a bit of a recovery." Her doctor said.

Her heart surged. "But you can fix it?"

"Your eyesight won't be perfect again." He cautioned quietly. "But based on what I see right now, with surgery you won't be completely cured… but you won't be completely blind."

"So… something intermediate?" Carmen asked. That doesn't do.

"Possible." The surgeon observed. "Or you could get a more extreme result. We really can't tell until we get you under the knife. Or we could…"

"I'll do it." Carmen said quietly.

* * *

"Hi Helen…" Ivy said softly. Seeing Carmen jump she added quickly. "Easy. I'm alone."

The woman angled her head away but didn't move. "I sent you elsewhere, detective."

"We got your theme," began the uneasy reply. "Blindness…"

"I'll have you know detective, that my theme was fate and coincidence."

"Ok whatever…"

"I did not want you to see me." The thief muttered, wondering if this darkness was making her more frank.

Ivy swallowed and Carmen could hear it.

"But I suppose I should have expected you to figure it out."

"Does it hurt much?" The detective whispered.

"Only a little." The mastermind mused, folding her arms. "I threw away the painkillers, but in retrospect that was probably just pride. Took the antibiotics though, for whatever it's worth."

"Can I see them?" The agent inquired nervously.

Carmen hooked her hands through her belt. "Do as you like." She said briskly.

Unsteadily, Ivy reached out a hand and touched Carmen's chin, turning the crimson thief to face and tipping up the hat.

Wondering if one responded more strongly to the invasion of personal space when bereft of vision, Carmen remarked. "Perhaps you might give me a straight answer regarding their appearance, detective. The surgeon hedged."

"I'm sorry Carmen." Ivy said quietly.

"That bad are they?" The felon sardonically dismissed her.

"I didn't intend…"

"Of course you didn't. Don't let me catch you blaming yourself for this, detective. I chose the arena for that theft. Safety was my responsibility. I'm just glad it wasn't you or your brother."

Ivy smiled a little. "That's sweet Carmen."

"That's pragmatic, detective. I have no urge to face the wrath of a unified Acme. At least I still have a chance to pull through this."

The thief heard her counterpart sharpen her tone. "A chance?"

"I'm going in for… for surgery on them, a week from tomorrow. The doctor is…" she tried to invest the phrase with more confidence than she harbored, "hopeful that it will restore my sight."

"Just hopeful?"

The eyes were too scratched to flash properly, but the stern shoulders hinted at the effect. "I don't know how to clarify it any further, detective."

"Do you have a plan for if it doesn't work?" Ivy really didn't want to know the answer but felt compelled to ask.

"Yes…" Carmen hissed on the edge of silence.

"And it is…"

"I will… I will walk into the control center of VILE and announce my… condition."

Ivy drew in breath sharply. "Don't do that. That's insane."

Carmen chuckled darkly. "Why?"

"Because they'll kill you." Ivy didn't stop to consider her logic. It made entirely too much sense.

"And how is that insane?" The master thief inquired.

"It's … it's… just come with us." Ivy demanded. "We'll keep you safe."

"No you won't." Carmen answered. "You'll worry a little bit and check up on everything for the first few weeks. Then you'll leave me in a tiny little box," her voice got very quiet. "To rot until I die."

"I wouldn't…"

"You're a teenager, detective. Your attention span is supposed to be even shorter. It's a miracle you pay attention as much as you do."

"Not for you..."

"Do you fancy yourself Anne Sullivan now?"

"Hey…" Ivy said in a discernibly injured tone. "Don't criticize the metaphor. You choose it."

Carmen snorted.

"Helen Keller." Ivy said with determination. "Did not give up."

"Helen Keller… was not a felon." Carmen remarked.

"That shouldn't matter at…"

"Detective!" Carmen snapped.

"I would come to see you." Ivy vowed fiercely. "Every day."

"I understand…" The thief answered.

Ivy was surprised at how cold the other woman's voice sounded. "What do you mean."

"It's in your nature, detective, to be gracious to a defeated enemy. So if you're offering that, you believe that my sight will not be restored. You think I'm blind for life, Ivy."

"No…" Ivy lied.

"I'm not beaten yet, detective." Carmen said sharply. "You save your pity." And the woman turned to stride away.

Ivy tried to follow but her shoes were stuck to the ground.

The next two months were about the longest of Ivy's life.

When Carmen resumed stealing, she had the sense not to inquire about her eyes.

Ivy didn't want to know.

And she especially didn't want to be caught asking.

**THE END**


End file.
